


Bucky's First Night Home

by PrincessSunflower



Series: Thank You for Seeing Me 'Verse [5]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stucky - Freeform, Thank You for Seeing Me 'Verse, can be read as a standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessSunflower/pseuds/PrincessSunflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending months in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s care, Bucky is allowed to go home with Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky's First Night Home

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in the same universe as my other fic, "Thank You for Seeing Me," but can be read as a standalone. This takes place before any of the events in TYfSM.
> 
> Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> (And sorry for the sucky summary lol)

“Okay. Here we are,” Steve said, his voice soft but bright and encouraging as he opened the door to his apartment. If you could call nearly an entire floor of Stark Tower an ‘apartment.’ He led the other man inside, shuffling the duffel bag on his shoulder as he closed the door behind them. “So, what do you think? Do you like it okay? Do you think you’ll feel okay staying here?”

The brunet’s eyes quickly moved to scan over their surroundings, seemingly taking everything in, but Steve knew he was checking for threats, noting exits. Finally, his gaze fell back on Steve. “This is where you live?” Bucky asked plainly, his face a practiced neutral. 

“Um, yeah,” Steve nodded, “Stark gave each of the Avengers their own floor in the Tower.” He watched with rapt attention as Bucky moved farther into the rooms, looking around at everything. Steve couldn’t deny that he was nervous, though he tried not to let it show, for Bucky’s sake. The past two months hadn’t been easy on either of them. They had both been staying at the New York S.H.E.I.L.D. headquarters; Bucky, because he was being detained, and Steve, because _like hell_ was anyone taking him away from Bucky. Tonight was the first night that Bucky had been allowed to leave and Steve just…. didn’t want to mess anything up. 

“It’s….big,” Bucky said finally, turning to look at the blond. 

Steve cracked a shy grin. “Yeah, heck of a lot bigger than that shabby little apartment in Brooklyn.” 

Bucky shrugged, walking further into the room. “I didn’t mind it. It always smelled like cake.” 

Steve broke out into a huge smile. “Yeah, Buck. There was an Italian bakery next door to our building. You remember that?” Steve watched as Bucky nodded, his eyes distant in deep thought. In the past several weeks, Steve had learned that it was better to stay quiet when Bucky got like this, pulled into his memories. It was difficult for him to unscramble true memories from implanted ones, identities that had been forced on him by his captors. It had taken countless hours of therapy to undo the decades of brainwashing that Hydra had done. Steve knew that his friend was far from fully recovered, hell, he probably wouldn’t ever be. But he was so proud of how far Bucky had come. Steve worried. A lot. But mostly, he was unimaginably relieved and happy to have his Bucky back. _‘No,’_ Steve chided himself. This wasn’t _his_ Bucky, he had to remember that. Bucky was different now. He had been through a lot and couldn’t be expected to go back to being that happy-go-lucky kid with a smirk that he was before the war. Steve had to respect that, and he did. It was okay that this wasn’t _his_ Bucky from his memories. Steve was just over the moon to have a Bucky at all. 

Steve noticed when Bucky pulled out of his thoughts and began looking and wandering around the kitchen. 

“You hungry, Buck? I could make something. Or we could order in?” Steve offered, knowing that Bucky wouldn’t ask for himself. He had learned that one of Bucky’s mental blocks was being able to voice his needs. For so long he had been made to ignore his base desires, food, warmth, sleep. It left the enhanced assassin feeling more comfortable doing without than asking anyone for anything. 

Bucky shook his head in reply to Steve’s questions.

Steve’s brows knit in concern. Bucky wasn’t chatty on the best of days, but usually he was more vocal when it was just the two of them. He wondered if the day had been too overwhelming for Bucky. His days in S.H.I.E.L.D. med bay had been consistently scheduled, down to the minute. It was possible that this change was vexing for his delicate mental state. “Do you want to go to bed?” Steve asked, thinking his friend needed some time alone. He was delighted with Bucky seemed to brighten ever so slightly, even making eye contact as he nodded.

“Okay, Buck,” Steve smiled. His heart stuttered when Bucky gave a tiny smile back. “Here, I’ll show ya where it is,” the blond said, leading the other through the living room and down the hall. Steve stopped and opened the bedroom door. Bucky stepped in, quickly scanning with his eyes, as per usual. Steve watched him from the doorway, unable to pull his mouth out of a smile at the sight of his best friend in his home. After circling the room, Bucky sat down on the side of the bed, looking expectantly at the other super soldier. Steve, taking that as his cue to go, said, “Alright then, there’s a bathroom through that door, and my room is right down the hall if you need anything, okay?” 

Steve immediately second-guessed his own words when Bucky’s eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders drooping slightly. 

“Buck?” Steve said, his eyebrows drawn low in concern. “Bucky? What’s wrong?” he asked, standing just inside the doorframe, not wanting to crowd the other man.

Bucky barely responded, just shaking his head slightly as he stared at the carpet.

Steve sighed sadly. “Bucky, your doctors say that you need to be able to express your emotions.”

“I don’t want to,” Bucky monotoned. 

Steve walked closer to his friend. “Can I sit on the bed with you?” he asked. It was important for Bucky that he have control over his own personal space.

The other super soldier shrugged. “It’s your house, Steve.”

The captain frowned as he sat down. “Dr. Laura said that it’s important for you to be honest about your feelings. Why don’t you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he enquired gently.

“Because I don’t want you to know,” Bucky answered honestly, still not looking at Steve.

“Oh,” Steve answered, trying to keep his voice from showing the disappointment he felt. “Do you want me to call one of your doctors for you to talk to?”

“No, Steve.” Bucky’s voice was empty, like the Asset’s had been. He was shutting down. 

Bucky’s therapists had learned that when Bucky was upset, he became almost completely nonverbal. When Bucky was under the control of Hydra, he was their machine. He wasn’t allowed to react, even to excruciating pain, so he would block everything out. His doctors said it was his brain’s form of self-defense, unable to handle all of the trauma dealt onto him by the monsters of Hydra. At the beginning of his therapy with S.H.I.E.L.D., no one could get Bucky to speak when he got like this. The assassin would stare blankly ahead, unresponsive to any attempts at conversation. The first time he spoke while in one of these episodes was to say _“I want Steve.”_ After that, the captain demanded that he be called whenever Bucky slipped into one of these states. He would stay with his distressed friend for hours, if necessary, sometimes sitting quietly, just letting Bucky know he was there. Other times, when Bucky’s doctors were more concerned, Steve would gently try to coax information out of him to understand what he was distressed about. Initially, Steve’s efforts were futile; Bucky just wouldn’t speak. So one day, when Bucky was in one of his better moods, Steve asked him about it. 

_“Hey, Buck…” he had tried while they were eating lunch one day, “Why won’t you talk when you get upset? Even just to me?”_

_Bucky sighed and put down his sandwich. He looked down into his lap and Steve thought he himself might have sent Bucky into one of these moods before the dark haired man spoke quietly. “I can’t, Steve,” he had said despondently, “I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.”_

_“Hey, it’s okay, Bucky,” Steve had rushed to assure him, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing to apologize for. We’ll figure it out.”_

 

That was a month ago. They had made some progress since, but not a lot. The doctors had given Bucky coping techniques to try to break past the mental block so that he could express himself when he was distressed. But, so far, the only person Bucky will talk to when he gets like this is Steve, and even then, it’s like pulling teeth. But, it was something. Progress. And that’s why Steve was hopeful that Bucky would talk to him now, even a little. 

“Bucky…” he started gently, “If you don’t wanna talk to one of your doctors, that’s okay. But I need you to tell me what’s wrong. We don’t have to talk about it or anything if you don’t want to, but I just…” Steve tapered off, frowning slightly to himself. “I’m worried about you.” 

Beside him, Bucky’s steel gaze remained locked onto the floor in front of him. Steve had almost given up hoping for a response when he heard a quiet, heartbreaking voice. “You don’t want me anymore…. Because I’m broken.”

“What?” Steve’s head snapped up at the gravelly voice, “Bucky, what are you talking about?” 

Bucky still wouldn’t look at Steve, continuing to keep his eye-line fixed to the carpet. “I remember, Steve,” he monotoned, “I remember how it was between you and me, before the war. It wasn’t…. We weren’t just friends.”

Steve bit his bottom lip sharply to keep himself from bursting into tears like a baby. At the beginning of Bucky’s recovery, his doctors had advised Steve not to pressure Bucky into recalling memories. They had said that his brain needed time to untangle all of the crossed wires and even then, it was probable that he would never regain all of his memories. Of course, Steve had agreed to do whatever was best for his friend. He hadn’t brought up the other aspects of their past relationship to Bucky. He knew the assassin was constantly struggling to adapt to living in the world around him, outside of Hydra’s control, and Steve didn’t want to further complicate that by adding a new dynamic. So Steve had made peace with that, with being a supportive friend to Bucky, helping in whatever ways he could, and knowing that, for now, this is how things were gonna be between the two of them. Or so he had thought. 

“Bucky-,” Steve started to contend, but was cut off.

“I knew you wouldn’t do anything in front of the doctors, or the security cameras at S.H.I.E.L.D., but I thought that when we got home…..” Bucky shrugged stiffly. “I was stupid to assume you’d still want me like that.”

“Bucky, no!” Steve yelled, startling both of them, Bucky enough so that he finally looked up from the floor and at the blond. “Bucky, you don’t-,” Steve stopped to push down emotion that was building in him like air filling a balloon. _Don’t overwhelm him. Don’t overwhelm him._ Steve shut his eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. When he opened his eyes, he was met with Bucky staring at him openly, his ice-blue eyes boring questioningly into Steve’s. “You’ve got it all wrong, Buck,” Steve tried again, using all of his willpower to not let the tears in his eyes fall. “I-I’m sorry for not telling you,” he said, “I just wanted to help you with your recovery and I didn’t want to make you feel pressured into anything. And I sure as hell didn’t want you worrying about my feelings while you’re going through all this.” Steve pulled in a shuddering breath. “You never said anything so I thought you didn’t remember. I-I’m so sorry you thought-,” Steve broke off again, choking back a sob. “I just thought that it would be better to give you space. But, Bucky, I _want_ you. I never stopped wanting you. I’ve missed you so much.”

Bucky was quiet. He stared unwaveringly at Steve, his eyes flickering over Steve’s face as if searching for something. Then, he slowly, carefully, reached out his flesh hand and placed it on Steve’s cheek. 

Steve held his breath when Bucky touched him and, for a moment, it seemed as if everything on Earth stood still. Steve didn’t move when Bucky leaned towards him, the hammering of his own heart thudding in his ears. 

The tears in Steve’s eyes finally fell when Bucky’s lips softly pressed against his. Steve’s hands fisted in the bed’s comforter so that he wouldn’t reach up and thread them through Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer like he so desperately wanted to. All too soon, Bucky pulled back. Steve had to stop himself from chasing after those lips that felt so soft and perfect and _right_ against his.

Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s. “I don’t want space, not from you, Stevie,” he whispered. 

Steve smiled through his falling tears, his voice shaky as he answered. “I love you, ya jerk.”

For the first time in a very, very long time, Bucky smiled. “I love you too, punk. ‘Til the end of the line, right?”

“Yeah, Buck. ‘Til the end of the line.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it :) feel free to let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> And if there are any typos, lemme know


End file.
